Hashtag Murder

by brett hicks

  “Come, the savages are getting restless. You’re the brand-new tasty chop off the butcher's block now, lass. Enjoy it while it lasts.” She did not sound jealous, just stating a fact. I liked Sorcha, I decided here and now. She was odd at times, but she seemed to speak her mind to your face. As a cop, you deal in bullshit and lies all day every day. Unfiltered truth is a welcome change to me, like a new wind blowing through a stagnant marsh.

  Jimmy hovered close by as I approached the bar. He saluted me with his large pint of beer. One by one, patrol men and women, and plain-clothes detectives came to introduce themselves. I also had several would-be suitors offering me free drinks, each hoping to win the company of my fair self at night’s end. Being the smart girl, I wished I had been the night before; I stuck to drinking with Sorcha, since she seemed to be the only one not in it for the sex. Yes, having a gal-pal to fly with was crucial to a single young woman.

  The topper of the evening was when the leprechaun bar tender Ernie Dean brought out a vanilla ice cream cake with a little female cop in blues painted in icing. It was a very sweet thought, in more ways than one. I dug in and the honeycomb infused vanilla was rich and milky. It was by far the most potent desert I had ever tasted, but it was also nearly addictive it was so good! Most beings would want to know their heritage, before they dug into fairy foods and drinks, but I partook of them with no incident. It did not occur to me at the moment that Ernie was testing me, but by the end of the night, I had finally arrived at this revelation.

  My new co-workers all seemed polite, eager to introduce themselves, and excited to welcome in another sister in the blue. It seemed to me, regardless of race, or species, these sups were as blue-blooded as any humans ever could hope to be. I felt a lot more secure in my decision to transfer into this new station. I felt like I might not be alone for the first time in ever. I just needed to hope that whatever I was, they would continue to accept me.

  Ten:

  The first week and a half went fast after my eventful beginning. Granny had been extra sassy, needling me relentlessly about my snogging session with my new partner. Considering this, I was very reluctant to introduce the two. Also, I was worried about what species he was, because of the unexplainable magic I felt from him.

  Jim appears to be a good cop, driven and focused on the job. The sups in the station also appear to be on the up-and-up. That distrustful part of me wanted to believe I would catch them hiding bodies or something. However, my paranoia has become largely a thing of my own making.

  This does not mean I am ready to openly trust them with my secrets. It does not mean that I have made my peace with stepping another foot out of the proverbial closet. Whatever slight changes I will grant, I knew that change would find me soon.

  Sorcha had spent a lot of her free time helping me. Today, we were working together, riding down leads while Jimmy was in court presenting evidence.

  “You know, there is something mystical in the air this time of year. Almost like the very nature of fall is to draw forth the unseen forces of this world.” Sorcha said, her motives vague, but her eyes landing on me with heavy implications. We had not talked about my slip of the hand in our greeting since that night, but it was tantamount to a pink elephant on skates between us.

  “Does that mean we can stay outside for this fancy-arse party?” I asked in a sassy tone, and Sorcha’s eyes danced in amusement. She seemed to comprehend my level of annoyance, and her expression told me she too was not a fan.

  We were asked to pose as partygoers at this high-end Samhain benefit party and fundraiser. The years past had resulted in over one robbery by the night’s end. The boss decided that two young looking female detectives would fit in better. We would be the most likely to slip under the radar. He was right in the sense that we were not treated as a potential threat by anyone in this building.

  The last dregs of misogyny seemed to hold fast in such places. Massive shining crystal dangled overhead in the luxurious hotel. The party was overflowing with men in penguin suits and women in actual ball gowns. This was about as far from the North Dublin style as it got without leaving the city proper. It was almost impossible to believe that this benefit and my usual beat were in the same precinct.

  The Merrion Hotel in Dublin was in an off-white restored Georgian building. It was only five minutes’ walk from the famous Dublin Castle. The luxury and the splendor of the opulence and the multitude of valuable objects and designer trappings spoke to the lifestyle its frequent guests were accustomed. As a lowly, barely promoted, detective garda, this was far from my scene. Many of the partygoers had been cold or outright prickly since my arrival.

  If not for Sorcha’s generous donation of a fine light green sheath cocktail dress, I would have looked more like the cater-waiters now patrolling the floor offering finger-foods and strong drinks.

  Many of the guests seemed to me to be all the same. All raising their eyebrow at one another, as if to judge each other’s supposed “worthiness.” Smiles were as toothy as a Mississippi alligator from back in the States. These were wolves, all wearing black monkey suits and she-wolves in fine evening wear.

  Though my dress and my borrowed designer heels made me appear as one of them, I could not feel more out of my element if I had attempted. Most girls would kill to be dolled up and allowed to curtsy and act the part of a princess of sorts for a single evening, that was not this girl. I am just a simple girl with simple desires, like hunting down demons and volatile spirits. Just your basic girly ambitions for your basic Irish American girl.

  “Well, well, what have we here? I don’t believe we have been introduced, and that is a crime!” A charming and cultured male voice said to me in a buttery tone. I felt my back tense at the sound of his thickly lustful tone. Even before our eyes connected, I was already cringing.

  “Hello, sir.” I as I turned to look at the flirty man. He was tall, probably a foot taller than me, so about six-four or six-five. He was broad, he had a thickly muscled build that his tuxedo seemed to accentuate, rather than hide. He was a man of means, which was clear by his diamond cuffs and the gold Rolex watch on his left wrist. He had gilded hair like spun gold, almost as if you expected to catch Rumpelstiltskin leaping out of a book and clawing to grab hold of his blindingly gorgeous locks.

  His voice was hard to place, it sounded Irish, but not the same as any native Dublin man of his approximate age. He appeared no more than thirty years old, but as he took my hand, the chilly sensation of his touch spoke of something sinister, something powerful. I could not place it, and it felt somehow familiar all that the same time. He was like a riddle tailored to me.

  “Please, call me Sebastian, Sebastian Winter at your service, miss?” He quirked a questioning right brow. I cleared my throat quickly. I found my wit and my sass in the next moment.

  “Rebekah Lowrance charmed to make your acquaintance.” I lied smoothly to him and I held my magic in tightly, trying to lull this supernatural male into believing me another weak human. He seemed to be satisfied with my claim, so I knew he was not a shifter, since they would have picked up on my surge of emotions on the spot. I had no clue what he was or what his prowess might be, other than to know he had a massive aura of power and powers that felt cold.

  Dublin appeared to be far more of a magical place, even here and now in this ritzy gathering.

  “Rebekah, an enchanting name, for an enchanting beauty.” He said, and he raked his eyes over my body. Several of my Celtic tattoos were visible in the line of my sheath cut. One of them being a Celtic tiger, he seemed to admire my tribal art for a moment, and my body in the same process. He did not seem to notice the magical properties of my ink. There again, no one had ever noticed my ink. It seemed as if it limited the perception of other sups to auras projected and powers overtly on display. I did not believe I was stronger than anyone, but I was perhaps a little more adept as sensing others, hence my sights and detection of my father’s possession.

  “If you will excuse me, my lady,
I have business to attend. Once I am done, I will be in rapture to hear more about you.” He said in his buttery-smooth tone. My girly self felt a warmth rush through me, and I felt a deep excitement at the sexual appreciation. The cop me smashed this side down with a metal baseball bat and forced it deep into the corner of my mind.

  I nodded curtly to the ripped young-looking blonde mystery man, and I watched him nimbly pace by me after he pressed a kiss to my right hand in parting. Yep, I would have loved to enjoy a little more of his time, but I had to stay focused on my task.

  I was scanning the area for anyone who did not fit in or was doing anything that seemed off. There were several nervous bar maids, but I wrote their behavior off to the traumatic experience of serving to powerful and self-important men. I noticed one of the coat boys was shifty, and I made a note to self to monitor him. So far, the evening seemed to go off without a hitch. I would not let myself get lulled into a false sense of confidence. I was also not going to enjoy this swanky evening. I rather have a stiff drink at my new local.

  As heart-pounding and exciting as this all was, I was certain that I could not let myself enjoy this event. I knew that I never fit into this world, and I was only deluding myself if I stole even a moment’s happiness. Besides, the faster I allowed the powerful of Dublin to truly notice me, the swifter my father’s sins would cross the Atlantic to haunt me.

  An hour passed without incident, aside from some guests becoming sloppy drunks. I had not seen the smooth blonde man again, and there was a small part of me that was disappointed.

  I kept my eye open watching the dancing merry making. I felt the air shifting suddenly, as if without explanation. Then suddenly, the music was interrupted by the buzzing and chiming of hundreds of cellphones like a cellular cacophony of techno-chirping. The string music and the waltzing came to an abrupt halt. Everyone reached for their smartphones. I heard gasps and even screams as people stared in horror at the devices that usually gave them mindless entertainment.

  I fished into my small green clutch purse for my cell and I had a blinking red dot on the screen telling me I had a new post on my social media. It shocked me, since I barely ever even opened it and had forgotten that I even linked it to my phone. That alone was a surprise, so when I opened up the screen and saw the grizzly image waiting to greet me, I felt my blood flash freeze in my veins. A deep sense of dread seemed to be affirmed now.

  Looking at me was a bloody and brutally disfigured form. If not for the shredded up ballgown covered in blood, I would not be sure I was looking at a woman. She looked like she had been diced up like human meat, and she seemed to have been butchered as if she were an animal from a farm.

  I had seen more than one murder vic in my short time as a police officer, so I knew how to spot a hoax. This was no hoax. This was a victim of a real crime. The tag Hashtag, having a bitchin time at the ball, accompanied this image. I could see a shadowy silhouette prowling just beside the murdered girl. It was too indistinct to gather anything from, but it was probably the killer, and he had sent a very morbid form of selfie after taking this girl’s life.

  Several of the older women feinted at the horror on their screens. There were many other vile reactions to the display. Sorcha looked at her screen for a moment longer, then she seemed to gather all her determination and she strode over to me with a purpose.

  “Avery, we need to secure this crime scene. They took this image near the pool of the hotel. I have been here enough times to recognize the surroundings in this image. We need to quartan off the area and lock down this section, so we can catch this sicko!”

  She said, and I nodded, and snapped into action. My heart was drumming in rapid beat in my chest. I had never been the first on-scene to a homicide, let alone one this grotesque and chaotic! Still, we had to figure this crime out. We had to catch whoever had butchered this girl like she was a side of meat! We owed it to whatever family she had to give closure and justice.

  Eleven:

  Screams from outside the building caught my attention as I was rushing at a frantic pace towards the suspected scene of the crime. These were not the screams of a woman, and as Sorcha and I rounded the turn and came into view of the deep scarlet mess of still cooling human blood, we saw a half-drenched human male leaning over the body in a bloody white dress shirt and black pants, with the silver vest that all the caterers were using.

  One of the uniform cops that had been patrolling the grounds was suddenly on the young dark-haired man. He pressed him to the ground face first and began to read him his rights under Irish law.

  The deafening dissonance of the human-made sounds of surprise, fear, and grief were enough to split my head asunder. Sorcha was barking at several uniforms that came stumbling onto the scene. She was a wild fae, but she was also a seasoned cop. She was taking every measure to begin the preservation process of the scene. She looked on the bystanders like an owl hunting for a mouse.

  “Separate the witnesses and begin interviewing them all. Avery, I will need you to take their statements and give me notes on each and every one of their response and your impressions of them. Somewhere, someone saw something that will help us find this maniac.”

  She spoke with an air of authority that I had logically known was there but had yet to experience firsthand. Sorcha was more than her species, more than a sup, she was a cop to her very bones. I was new to this job, but thankfully, they beat the detective’s manual into you during your training!

  My cop instincts and training kicked in, and I began to help the uniforms corral the droves of witnesses. We moved them into several of the empty side rooms usually used for business meetings and company retreats. As much as I wanted to spend my time examining the murder itself, I knew that some of us had to be the ones to take the statements. I was the lowest hanging fruit on the detective tree, so naturally that was me.

  Try as I might, I could not get the smell of coppery blood from my nostrils, even in the conference room where I was conducting my interviews. There was a slight shake in my left wrist from the freezing burning of adrenaline. I have seen death, and I have been at the end of the barrel causing it, but I had never gotten used to being witness to human death. The mortal coil seems to be tragic and unrelenting.

  Like this grizzly mutilated body, all humans eventually fell prey to the grave. It is what makes their lives so beautiful, even fleeting as their time might be.

  ***

  Jimmy rushed over once his court appearance was finished. Our ball party had started early in the afternoon, and it was just now becoming night. He appeared at my side as if a wraith in the evening. I had barely felt his chilly jungle aura as he approached. If I had been a less sensitive sup, I could imagine he might scare me shitless with his silence. He is the type of man that wears his lean masculine muscle-mass well. His feet are ghost quiet.

  My evening had been a blur of interviews. Hundreds of people were around the area when the victim was murdered.

  “You got a minute?” Jimmy asked me in his usual gruff tone. I looked to my current witness, he was an older gentleman in his sixties, and he was attempting to look anywhere besides at my breasts. I guess I might have given the evil eye a few times, so the surrounding men were picking up the alpha female vibe.

  “Let me finish up here, then I can talk.” I told him in a steady but haggard tone. I had never realized how much energy a girl could kill just talking to people. I have pulled traffic duty plenty of times, but this was way worse!

  “Sorry sir, could you repeat what you were saying?” I asked sweetly enough, and the older man took his cue to talk again.

  “Yes miss, I was just taking a wee sip of me tea and watching the birds. Then I saw the darkness, it brushed past me, like a big blimey shadow!” He raised his hand to animate the height, and Jimmy looked at me sidelong. I knew he was searching for my response. I gave nothing away, and I swiftly made notes of everything the elderly man said.

  “Thank you, sir, is there anything else you could tell m
e that might help me in my investigation? Did you see a hair color or some distinguishing marks?” I asked and managed not to accuse the man of being batshit nor did I overtly give credence to his claims. Chills ran along my spine and I felt certain that the claim was legitimate. Even if this was a human monster, there was something monstrous about the way they murdered this young woman, not that any other murder is any kinder to the victim!

  Once I left my partner tonight, I planned to investigate this crime from a supernatural angle. I just needed to check in with Sorcha, since she was the only sup I was out of the closet with. There was a part of me that felt guilty that I could not really fully bond with my partner right now and that I kept so much close to my vest.

  Trust never comes easy, and I will selectively choose when I will announce myself to others.

  “No ma’am, I told ye everything that happened.” The older gentleman said earnestly, and his expression seemed to display deep searching, like he was trying to dig through all of his memories of the past few hours in case he missed some small detail. I lightly pat my hand on the back of his hand, and I nodded.

  “Thank you for your cooperation, sir. You can go, we will be in touch with you via the mobile number your left us, and you might expect a garda to stop by and re-interview you later, in case you might have remembered some new detail.” I told him, and the older man grumbled something incoherent and he rose with creaky joints. Then he was off at what was a very brisk pace for his age. I had to guess that he was at least as starving as I was! I had not taken my dinner break yet. Sorcha and I were supposed to have fifteen minutes of personal time for a meal during the ball. That has gone out the window, now I was stuck in a tight sheath dress and four-inch heels. I was not apposed to the occasional sexy outfit, but it was feeling a tad constrictive!

  “Where do ye think she’s stashed her gun?” I looked out the door at the pair of youthful officers in crisp blue garda uniforms. I gave them what must have been the mother of all death stares, and they turned away and sniggered to themselves.