by brett hicks
Several of the men looked at her with a lost expression. Sorcha arched her brow quizzically.
“What?”
“They’re just being men, don’t hold it against them Sorcha.”
Reline said in her most mater-of-fact bubbly tone. Sorcha conceded to her point, and she looked back over the body.
“She had good taste for a college age girl. She also likely had money.”
Sorcha explained further, and I frowned.
“Ok, now you’ve lost me. Couldn’t she have been shagging a rich git?”
Sorcha snorted and rolled her eyes.
“Oh, sure, but no common girl will have that five-hundred-euro nail job. She is a young lady of means, and likely born into her wealth.”
Reline hummed and nodded in agreement with Sorcha’s assessment.
“If the fashion police are through, could we crack on?”
Jimmy quipped, and Sorcha gave him the evil fairy eye, not to be mistaken for the normal evil eye!
“Sure, Detective Garda, dazzle us with your stellar observations. Please, teach us mere women folk how to do a proper job of policing a murder scene.”
Sorcha admonished, the assertive bitch in her rising to squash down his rebuke.
“Lads!”
Harry snarled, and everyone hopped in place and looked over to the ursine boss. A chorus of obedient “boss,” echoed out almost instantly.
“You lot remember we are here to speak for the dead, so no more in-fighting, or I will sort ye out myself.”
His eyes flashed red again, and no one wanted to learn what it meant for the DI to sort them out personally! Even Sorcha looked mildly perturbed with this idea. Whatever her relationship, or lack there-of, was with DI Templeton, she was no more interested in direct conflict with him than anyone else.
“Fair play let’s bang on and get this scene bagged and tagged.”
Sorcha said, and Jimmy nodded in agreement. They might bicker endlessly, but they were both here for the same reason, to give the victim's families closure, and to arrest dirtbags.
“Sorcha, you check with the local universities. I want you asking around with all the high-end fancy-arse lasses. See if anyone is missing from their social circles.”
DI Templeton ordered out in a grave tone. Sorcha tipped her head and gave him a tiny salute with the tips of her fingers.
“On it, boss.”
“Jimmy, you and the rook here need to check every club within walking distance. I want you to collect CCTV and witness statements. I want to know if anyone spotted any young women matching the victim’s apparel and approximate age having trouble. Hell, if they say a girl with her look going to the bloody jax, I want to know about it!”
I nodded, and Jimmy grunted.
“Boss.”
I said in a crisp tone.
“Reline, I want you back at HQ. You will help build the murder board and expand on it as information develops. I also want you to liaison with the coroner’s lab, as per-usual.”
“Roger that, boss.”
The sassy vampire put in. Her tone was far too chipper to fit in at a murder site. With the assignments handed out, we all broke off in our separate paths to chase down every wild lead in this damn city!
I felt like we were chasing our tails, but I couldn’t bitch to a furious ursine. I was agitated, and the state of the dead girl had completely shot my desire to eat! I was in for a very long day!
Twenty-Four:
Clubs were closing down for the night about the time we made our rounds. Most of the frequent flyers were off their heads. Gathering cohesive information from a bunch of steamed buggers was about as effective as herding cats.
This was the flip side of Irish culture, early in the morning. Much harder to find reliable witnesses, because most decent folk were home in bed at this hour.
“More crap. No one remembers seeing nothing for hours. The little toe-rags won’t say naught, even if it would help us catch a bloody murderer!”
Jimmy stewed beside me as we met up.
“Well, I was offered a couple dates, and a ride I would never forget, but no relevant information.”
I said, mater-of-fact. I could see Jimmy’s eyes change at the mention of a sexual overture.
“Anyone you want me to help you sort out?”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes.
“Are you joking? I could lay these lads flat out if I wanted to, so thanks, but no thanks.”
Jimmy’s eyes only intensified, as if I had been bathing in the male-equivalent of cat nip.
“I have no doubt you’re capable. I think us blokes just need to make these gestures, so we don’t lose our sack. Besides, defending pretty girls is what the job’s all about.”
I giggled and threw my head back.
“And here it was, I thought I joined to catch criminals.”
Jimmy shrugged slightly, and said, “Are the two mutually exclusive?”
This triggered another wave of laughter from me. I had almost forgotten how witty and charming he was, since we had been mainly walking nerves around each other since my first day.
“Just focus on the eyewitnesses, before they all feck off to pass out, yeah?”
I said, chastising him lightly, and Jimmy rolled his eyes before turning to survey the area. My assessment was more spot on than I had realized. The streets were clearing up and Dublin was properly dead for the night. Life kept moving, despite the brutal slaying of another young women. A young woman who our M.E. had yet to identify.
About that time a ripe old street man came hobbling up to me. He had the stench of an entire brewery about him.
“Yer lookin fer ta git tha kill’d that fine ride of a lass?”
I blinked at his thick and discombobulating English. He had a bit of a midlands accent, which was still confusing to me.
“I’m detective garda Avery Parker, and this is detective garda Jimmy McDonnell. We are looking into the homicide of a young woman discovered about two miles from this area, at the Liffey. Do ye have anything that could help our investigation?”
He bobbed, as if he might fall on his arse at a moment’s notice, but by some miracle of genetics and years of practice, the old gentleman never lost his footing.
“That’s a bloody mouth full, just say yer lookin fer ta killer, saves us all some time.”
He opened his coat, and Jimmy tensed, but I already had suspicions about what his hand was reaching for. He pulled out a long cheap bottle of wine. He chugged the contents and belched in Jimmy’s face. To his credit, Jimmy did not change his expression, but I could see the water forming in his eyes from the foul stench.
“Could you tell me what you saw, sir? Anything that could help us would be grand.”
I said, managing to stick to my polite and professional demeanor, like they teach us in training. I might be a no-nonsense girl, but I knew how to be a professional. Besides, vagrants and other street people did not bother me in the least. I had lived amongst them for several months as a girl. Before granny found me and brought me back to Dublin. I don’t judge people who live in the gutter, because I remember my world where all I had left was a gutter.
“Aye, flash git, had blonde hair, but it changed black and swirled with black smokey. Like it was fecking dying itself and constantly shifting colors.”
Jimmy huffed and put his hand on the man.
“Thank you for cooperating with our investigation. You’ve been a real help to us.”
The man bucked out of his grip and he pointed a meaty digit at Jimmy.
“You think I am daft; well I’d like to see ye lot close this one when the facts aren’t gonna be in a neat little box fer ya. Fecking pig!”
Jimmy glared at the man in warning.
“Move on, before I do ye for wasting police time.”
The old man staggered away and kept cursing Jimmy with every hobbling step he took. My mind was washed full of possibilities. I did not always believe the words of a drunken fool, but there was somethin
g about the way he described the suspect, that just seemed to line with what little I could nail down from the first murder. We were looking for someone who felt at home in darkness, who could bend light away from his visage. The shadow-aligned killer theory was fitting better and better.
I could tell that Jimmy’s mind was doing similar summersaults with this information. He was putting on airs for me, in case I was human. Jimmy could not seem to be a nutter to a mortal partner.
“Come on, Avery, let’s go get some tea and breakfast.”
I gave him a leery eye.
“Not sure I can eat after all we’ve seen and smelled this morning.”
He clapped me on the shoulder and said, “What you need is a good Irish, sausage, runny eggs, two types of pudding. All of that washed down with loads of tea!”
I felt nauseous just at the mention of such a heavy breakfast, and Jimmy laughed, and he squeezed my shoulder firmly.
“Come on, we’ll get a cuppa and maybe a wagon wheel. Something soft fer yer stomach, yeah?”
***
After hours of canvasing, we turned up one soggy drunken lead. We were now in one of the most cliché places for a pair of cops, a doughnut shop. The small mom and pop shop near our station house boasted the best coffee this side of the pond. I had snubbed my nose the first time Jimmy brought me here week one of our partnership, but I have since had a reversal of opinion.
Vickie’s Wheels was a great place to get a wagon wheel and a fresh cup of coffee or tea. Fer you Americans, wagon wheels are what we call doughnuts around here. Every culture had their own set of unique terms for everything in life. Growing up in two distinct English-speaking countries had taught me just how diversely one language could be applied in different geographies.
“Feeling any better now, Avery?”
Jimmy asked me, his tone was deep, but laced with heady concern. I gave him a curious look, and I shrugged slightly.
“It will take a lifetime to scrub that image from my mind. The things people do to each other are truly things of nightmares.”
I said absently, and Jimmy studied me.
“You speak from personal experience I take it.”
I suddenly became very fixated on my half-eaten doughnut. I picked a piece off and popped it in my mouth. I chewed much more than necessary to swallow the small bite of sugary goodness.
“I’m not having the past demons’ conversation with ye.”
I told him, and I was certain the look I gave him, as I turned my head up, was probably as defiant and stubborn as any I had ever formed. Jimmy sighed lowly, and he seemed to be somewhat disappointed with me.
“You know, you don’t have to carry the weight of your world all by yerself. I have not known you long Avery Parker, but I have known you long enough to know ye keep things to yourself far too frequently. Maybe, consider the damage all this compartmentalization is doing to yourself.”
I gingerly picked up my hot coffee and took a sip, enjoying the bittersweet mixture as the beverage greeted my tongue.
“You should spend more time profiling our murderer, and less profiling me, yeah?”
I knew I sounded like a little shite, but I was not in the mood to have him man-splain openness and trust to me. Sure, I needed to learn to be more open. I knew I had major underlying damage to maintenance in my life, but I was hardly ready to throw myself into his thickly muscles arms and beg for him to save me like my personal white-knight.
The fact of the matter was, I lived life on my own terms. I decided when I came out to people as a sup, and I would decide how and when to trust. Being in control was hardly a bad thing, besides, I still didn’t know what or who Jimmy McDonnell was outside the human world. I knew he was strong, and his elevation in some sect was comparable to how DI Templeton was perceived around the station house.
“Look, I’m here, so ye don’t have to carry everything on yer own, yeah? So, just think about it, consider what I’m telling you. Anyway, we have a load more to do fer the day, so I’ll go pay the bill.”
Jimmy’s seemingly reasonable tone made me feel like shit. I felt guilty that I was holding him on the outside. If not for that bloody leprechaun, I would just let him in. Right about now, I needed my partner. I needed someone to confide in. I also needed someone to bounce ideas about this case off.
I found my fingers already flipping my phone on. I pulled my text history with Sorcha up in the next second.
“Had a strange witness report.”
I hit send before I could second guess myself. I saw the three dots move on the screen.
“Yeah? Dish.”
She sent back, and I summarized the drunken bloke’s account. Sorcha’s dots stopped for a protracted moment and I thought maybe she had stepped away from her phone.
“HMUL, discuss possible sting.”
She finally sent back, and I sent her a monkey giving a thumbs-up gesture, emoji. She sent back a clown face. I sniffed to myself, stifling a laugh. I did not even want to contemplate how an old as dirt fairy learned the art of the emoji, but Sorcha was a very modern fae.
“Bill’s settled, yer treat next, yeah?”
Jimmy said as he came back and turned up the rest of his tea. He made a loud smacking sound with his lips and looked at me with a sincere expression.
“Even as it cools, nothing quite like their cuppa.”
Jimmy said, and I rolled my eyes at him.
“Could ye be more fecking cliché? Well, if you were dressed all in green, with a little green hat, then maybe ye could.”
I sassed at him, and he gave me a look of mild annoyance.
“I am naught a leprechaun!”
He stated plainly, and I waved him off.
“No, just a cliché tea loving patty, right?”
He puffed his chest out and challenged, “What of it?! I’ll have you know; tea has been a preferred beverage for centuries longer than coffee has even existed.”
He said defensively, and I laughed at him.
“So, your defense is that yer too senile to switch to coffee?”
I challenged, and I felt a low growling vibration in the surrounding air. It was like what I felt when I pissed off a shifter, only Jimmy was not exactly a shifter, and his magiks were far stronger. I would have been scared, if I had not been accustomed to feeling such things by now.
I finished out my shift with Jimmy, all the while, Sorcha was making plans for our proper investigation after work.
Twenty-Five:
I had been on my feet for about sixteen hours already. Sorcha was waiting for me at a pitch-black industrial area. Her car was parked along the outskirts of a series of abandoned factories and facilities that had once been flourishing harbor-front businesses.
She had not given me any new details about our destination or why she believed we could get answers at this dismal location. I climbed out of my hatchback and gave her a skeptical look.
Sorcha was dressed in another tight fitting cat burglar-like outfit, except this one was a hunter-green and snug fit black jeans. She also had a green beanie hat on that likely cost more than every item I had in my closet. All top-quality fabric and materials, and her light citrus fragrance that seemed custom made for her body chemistry. Fae are said to be as beguiling and alluring as any being could, but I was finally beginning to see the truth to this generality.
Sorcha did not have her glamor up, I soon realized. She was completely nude to the casual eye, pointy ears and all. She almost seemed to shimmer with majestic magiks of her undiluted nature fae lineage. In her case, it was the girl who made the clothes and not the other way around.
“Unless my eyeballs are acting up again, yer a wee bit obvious, yeah?”
I prodded her gently, and Sorcha let out a lengthy belt of musical laughter. Even her tone was like harp music now. Her every facet was seduction and splendor. Sorcha was regal, she was also powerful and alluring. Even a strictly hetero girl like myself had some issues turning away from her long enough to snap out of the fever
her magiks seemed to create.
“It’s actually rather reassuring that you can even fall prey to my spell, even if only just. More’s the pity, since I had my juju cranked to eleven just now.”
I stared at her blankly for a moment, then anger rose shortly there-after.
“You were trying to seduce me?!”
I asked, my tone becoming higher in pitch than I meant. Sorcha smiled sheepishly, then she gave me a casual half-shrug.
“Well, I was just testing your limits. I would have snogged yer arse, if you had been weaker. Blimey, you are every bit my equal, and ye don’t even know it. You could not comprehend the meaning of this now.”
I glared icy daggers at my fairy friend.
“I’m seeing my granny’s point about fairy games.”
I muttered to myself, and Sorcha waved me off dismissively.
“Says the girl who lives in a vulgar Celtic crop-circle!”
I ground my teeth; I was about to snap back, when I felt another colder presence traveling towards us at neck-break speeds. I snapped my head towards the pulse of inhuman energy, and I soon locked eyes on a car rushing towards us. The lights were off, and the paint was dark, so it blended in brilliantly with the night.
“What the…?”
I started, and Sorcha giggled another musical note.
“That’s just Reline, I invited her to this impromptu little gathering. Did I forget to mention?”
She asked me, but her eyes told me she knew damn well she was intentionally leading me on.
God damn fairy!
I pointed at her and gave her a menacing look.
“You and I will have words once we are back at my bloody crop-circle.”
Sorcha spared me a cunning look, and she lightly stepped towards the deep-burgundy sedan fast approaching us. The car came to a sudden stop. I noticed that the tires did not make a sound, nor did the loose gravel kick up a dust storm.
“Gotta love witchy innovations!”
Sorcha marveled, and I just looked at the car quizzically. I could feel feint buzzing of magiks coating the car, a lot like the paint coating. I had heard of modern enchantments blending with technology and machinery, but I had never seen it before now.