by brett hicks
“Yep, nice package on that boss man, huh?”
I smiled in an all too chipper manner, mockingly at her. Sorcha gave me her award-winning innocent eyes. I rolled mine, not buying fairy and innocent in the same sentence!
“If yer into that sort of thing, I suppose there’s worse?”
She said, playing coy. I giggled lowly to myself, and Jimmy seemed to be willing himself deft besides us, so he could feign ignorance to all things we discussed between ourselves.
“If you lot are done ogling yer colleagues and talkin about arse, can we get down to this daft rubbish?”
Jimmy interjected finally, and I blinked at him a few times, fluttering my long lashes. Sorcha punched his thickly muscled shoulder.
“Oh, come on kitty-cat! We’re just beginning to chew the cod properly!”
She teased him and I frowned, Jimmy growled at her. I was not sure what that quip meant, but it seemed to annoy him more than any of the others before. I am sure that I would have picked up on the reference if I was less sup retarded!
“So, what’s the play girly?”
Sorcha asked me, she beamed an expectant look.
“We just call each of them up, and we ask them to discuss the case over tea in a public venue. I will question them and try to get them off balance and see if they tip their hand.”
Jimmy snorted and shook his head at the same time.
“I don’t see why we have to do it like that, not when we have perfectly good interrogation rooms just for that purpose.”
I huffed in frustration and I popped his chest playfully.
“Yes, but they will be on defense from minute one if we bring them in for an interview. Out on the town in Dublin proper, these blokes all believe they are kings of the fecking castle. It stands to reason they will let a lot more slip if I hit them unawares like.”
I explained to them both, and Jimmy seemed to understand my play now, but he did not like it one bit!
“You’re going to dangle yerself as bloody psycho bait?!”
I flashed a warning look in my eyes.
“I am a Guard, same as you, same as everyone in this building! I throw myself between the general public and harm’s way for a living! If you cut me, I’d bleed blue, just like you lot!”
I chided, and I caught a few respectful nods from the other detectives in silent solidarity.
“I STILL DON’T HAVE TO LIKE THIS!”
Jimmy exclaimed loudly, and Sorcha sniggered to herself, something seemed to have her by the tail now.
“Hello, reporting for duty, I heard someone was planning something proper mental without me!”
Reline said, as she interjected into the middle of our quarrel.
“Oh, you know how it is. These two would forget their own arses, if not fer us. You gotta help me plan her potentially a victim outfit! I mean, if my girl is gonna get her throat cut, she will do it in the very lap of luxury!”
Sorcha said much too happy for my taste and Reline seemed to practically squeal in delight. These sups needed a proper mental exam! I was going to sign them all up for CAT scans just as soon as we finished this operation!
“It’s like I am herding a fecking pack of stray cats trying to get sense into this lot!”
Jimmy exclaimed irritably, and Sorcha continued to ignore his protests as she discussed fashion ideas with Reline.
Twenty-Nine:
“Jaysus, it’s like she’s never been on a proper date before!”
Sorcha exclaimed loudly, and my granny, the traitor was sniggering in agreement with her!
“Oh, she never dates, and the ones she has dated all a buncha losers, the lot of them!”
I glared at my granny.
“Thanks gran. So glad to know yer always on my side!”
I said sarcastically, and she just rolled her eyes. She really looked very similar to me when she did so. We were like before and after photos of each other in a lot of ways.
“Ye can’t be about blaming me fer yer taste in blokes!” I shot her dagger-eyes, and she was completely unaffected, as per-usual.
“This young one had a couple of posters of that fella from the Superman show.”
Gran told them, and I scoffed.
“It’s called Smallville, granny! Not Superman!”
Sorcha hummed in approval of my selection.
“Tom Welling can warm my bed any night he wants to!”
Sorcha said, her tone sincere.
“Aye, just make him leave his sassy brunette at home first, yeah?”
Reline added in after Sorcha, who hummed in agreement. I just threw up my hands in faux surrender at their madness.
“I just can’t think with all ye lot prattling on and on!”
I snipped, I felt like their fashion victim and science project all rolled into one! Sorcha and Reline were grand, except for the part where they now had an excuse to fuss over me like this was a make-over show. I sometimes forgot how un-girly I was in my daily rituals. I took care of my hygiene and my appearance, but I was not one for all the extra steps.
Now, I had been plucked and poked to an inch of my life. What made matters worse, they were refusing to let me eat dinner yet! Swearing it would affect how the outfit looked on me!
“I much prefer punching baddies, then trying to let them shag me.”
I said seriously, and they both chortled. They had the beaming brightness of two young--relatively speaking—women who were living out their very own fairy godmother fantasy. Sorcha held her open palm near reline, and the other woman deposited a soft pink lipstick.
“That should look sexy on her!”
Sorcha exclaimed and Reline nodded in approval.
“Oh yes, I have a feeling our mark will never see this one hitting him!”
They shared a conspiratorial look, then they giggled like a pair of mischievous schoolgirls. They left me to wonder what exactly I had signed up for, and why I suddenly felt like they were dressing me to the nines, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the case.
“Are you ladies about finished with my partner?”
I felt my cheeks turn to the temperature of a volcano in the next instant! I tried to turn away, so Jimmy would not catch a full view of me in the lavender floor length ball dress. The mischievous fairy had even swindled me into wearing three-inch heels!
Jimmy’s gaze landed on me, but his eyes never moved. He seemed stunned into stupidity. Either that or I looked ridiculous and our cover story for the evening was bogus! I could not help the fact that it mattered to me what he thought as he looked at me all dolled up. I have never been much for dressing up, but even I felt different.
Sorcha moved over to Jimmy and she elbowed him viciously in the ribs.
“Well, are ye gonna just gape at her or are ye gonna tell her what you think?!”
Her voice was assertive and chastising. Jimmy seemed to sputter in place for a few moments. He finally seemed to clear his throat.
“Beautiful, she looks more the princess than ye.”
He said to Sorcha in a nearly mesmerized tone. She seemed to be much too proud of her handy work with me to bother getting grouchy at the backhand to his compliment. Reline smiled like the devil and she seemed way to enamored with this exchange. I sometimes think of vampires as immortals eating blood flavored popcorn and watching on in amusement at the rest of the sup world sputters and fumbles around them.
“Awe, isn’t he just the knicker charmer?!”
Reline cooed in a sugary tone that was filled with her bubbly humor. Jimmy seemed like he wanted to rebuff the two, but he still kept fumbling with sentences, since he was busy staring at me like a prize clown! I felt my belly turn to molten goo at his approving stare. He seemed like he wanted to revisit the shenanigans of the night we first met in the pub.
“I’ll keep you in sight at all times.”
Jimmy said in a warm and cultured voice. I forgot to feel angry and annoyed with the implication that I was too fragile to look after myself! I was too busy
staring into his eyes, looking up at his handsome features. Even though I had controlled my behavior thus far, I felt like one slight touch would send me to heaven and hell all at once! Self-control was more of a relative state of mind for me at the moment. Everything seemed to dangle on the precipice of a knife’s edge. I felt soul-deep confusion, even if my body was not confused in the least. The primal me would have been more than happy to take what she wanted and let the rest of the world be damned!
“Where am I supposed to stash my weapons?”
I finally asked, allowing my mind to set to problem solving other matters far easier to decide. Jimmy seemed to snap himself out of a similar deep concentration. Reline and Sorcha pretended not to see any of this unfolding around them. They were tactful, the fringe benefit of living long lives.
“Please, you won’t need a gun. However, I have a few silver knives I could hide for you in the shawl.”
Sorcha said, and she pulled a beautiful silken purple shawl from her garment bag. Reline sighed in awe at the perfect royal-purple silken covering.
“That is from the era of true royal-purple. That is a garment that would have been a death sentence to any non-royal to wear back in the old ages.”
Reline explained excitedly, and Sorcha nodded in confirmation.
“Aye, this was one of my mother’s very own collection. It is said to be good luck to the wearer, and it is ancient and indestructible, so there is that as well! Besides, like any good medieval shawl worn by real royals, it has slots for small bladed weapons. After all, the whole ‘Off with their heads,’ bit came from somewhere, yeah?!”
I noticed how she carefully phrased everything she said with Jimmy listening. Sorcha was well aware that I was currently being leveraged to finish this case without telling Jimmy my truth. I’d have to dodge any suspicion a little longer.
“This is perfect Sorcha, but don’t you think it is a bit much fer a posh dinner, even if it is at Dublin Castle?”
I asked in an insecure tone. I did not enjoy being insecure, and it did not come frequent to me, but I was sane enough to ask more questions about my attire and my evening. We were originally planning to invite the high-society blokes to a tea conversation, but Sorcha then received invitations to a ball dinner at the castle. She seemed to logically leap to the conclusion that this was an act of divine providence.
“Oh please, wait till you see what some of those girls will be wearing.”
Sorcha waved a dismissive limp hand at me. Reline grinned in an evil manner, and she reached into the large garment bag she brought from home. She pulled out a stunning black sheath dress with a slit that traveled to the floor, widening in increments the further down it went. She also fished out a perfectly plush black veil.
“Please, not the veil, this is not supposed to be your unholy nuptials!”
Sorcha interjected and Reline arched a slightly annoyed brow.
“I don’t know, I think it just sets the look off.”
“Aye, it makes ye look like yer fresh from one of this young one’s favorite horror movies!”
My granny interjected to Reline in a mater-of-fact tone. The vampire eyed her, and she finally sagged and huffed in frustration. Granny held up a finger and said, “Just a moment lass, I am sure I have something tucked away that would go with yer dress.”
She shot off as if fired from a gun. Granny might be an old girl now, but she was very much a proper lady in her prime. I forget this often, since I hold little interest in a lot of these things. Back in her day, even a tomboy would have been accustomed to wearing dresses and proper evening wear.
“I think your gran has missed having these types of situations.”
I bit my lip and nodded slightly. I knew she was content with her small life, but I had to wonder what her youth had been like. I felt guilty that I did not know as much about her life as I should. We talked, but I have spent so much of my life running away from interactions that I never wanted to discuss our pasts or to hear stories of her youth.
“Yes, I was given this as a gift by your grandfather.”
She said, and I turned, I exhaled a long breath of surprise. The black evening fur mink cape. The design was timeless and every bit the top-dollar material. I had never imagined she owned something so elegant to wear over a gown. Granny was an exquisite young woman in her day, so it should hardly surprise me that she owned some fancy-dress clothes.
“Blime! That is perfect and absolutely stunning! It’s also proper fancy, none of these new minks even come close!”
Reline gushed on, and she carefully accepted the cape.
“Are you sure it's ok for me to wear this? It’s expensive, even by my standard of that definition!”
Reline asked her carefully. Gran rolled her eyes and sniffed mildly.
“This old thing needs a pretty bird to feather up. It’s not doing its job hiding away in this old-one’s closet.”
She said seriously and Reline smiled crisply to her.
“I will defend it with Sorcha’s very life, I promise!”
Reline said, and the fairy princess stuck her tongue out in response to this.
“Oh yes, here is the creme de la creme of society!”
I said sarcastically, and both the other girls sniggered at my quip.
Sorcha turned and waved Jimmy off as he hovered close to my orbit.
“You go shave thyself! Get ready, or do you plan to look like rabble?!”
She said, waving in a very fluid and dismissive fashion to Jimmy, who rolled his eyes.
“Anything to free me from this bloody nightmare!”
Jimmy murmured, and I was too caught up in the collective festive joy of three girls getting dressed for a high-society night on the town.
Besides the fact that all of our potential possessed humans would be in the same location tonight, the castle. I also figured that it was a safe bet that the killer would want to use the castle as a backdrop for his next kill. It was one of the very most iconic places in all of Dublin. I doubted there was even one place in this city tonight that would be worth killing at, aside from the castle. After two murders, I felt like I could gather just enough about the broken logic that this murderer possessed. After all, it was never far from my home.
Thirty:
All the places I have canvased and all the different interviews I have given in my young life were all leading me to tonight. I did not believe in fate, but I believed in the universe's irony. Victim of the past now hunts killers as her day job. It sounds a bit like an early twenty-first-century TV show concept, except I am not perky and blonde, and this is not California.
The bitter chill of the Celtic night in Dublin was like razors to my skin. I had learned to endure the cold since coming here, but the temperature was far milder than I had grown up with in the US. Living in the southern East Coast as a girl, I had been more accustomed to piping hot summers, and slightly chilly fall. It only ever felt this cold a few times a year, often accompanied by one of the few annual snowfalls, if any fell.
My teeth chattered in my mouth, but I tightened my jaw down, buttoning the hatch. I felt like I could never be warm again, and I regretted the outfit I let my damn fairy and vampire friends coax me into!
If I was being honest for even a second, I liked the feeling of the fabric and the added height of the heels. I hated the uncomfortable sensation accompanied with walking in heels, but I could manage the pain, so long as I had a damn drink in the process.
Wait, no drinks on duty!
I chided myself, remembering why I was here. This was for the two murdered girls, one of whom was still being identified now. We had to wait on DNA testing as we compared the vic to all known missing cases reported this week.
All I knew for sure was both were young and attractive—well, before he tore them apart. Judging from the state of her apparel, I would hazard a guess that the second vic was rich, unlike the first. Each were from different backgrounds. The club scene was not particularly slated for the rich, but mo
st of the VIP’s are well-to-do. This killer is likely from this one percent crowd, since he can blend into it at a moment’s notice during his murders. Yet, he is not infamous or famous, because he would never have been capable of skirting under the radar undetected by paparazzi.
Our killer is a powerful and wealthy man, most likely attractive. He also enjoys seclusion or extended periods of absence from the public eye, but not so much as to lose his VIP status. These were all just accurate assessments of what little evidence we had now. Most serial-type killer profiles seemed to look very much alike before the perps are brought to justice and the hard questions get answered by the monsters. However, I felt certain about these criteria. Everything is evidence, even the voids left behind that no one should notice. When we deconstruct and reconstruct the moment of a murder, we can deduce many data points with seemingly nothing to go on.
I forced my wondering and musings to a sudden halt as we pulled up outside the massive old gem that is Dublin Castle.
***
The gothic charcoal gray and light gray stone of the main structure of the castle and the massive stone turret loomed like a silent warning to all who would dare to breach. The once very base of the British resistance, was now the most luxurious halls in all of Ireland. Upon the Irish independence.
What had once been the very threat of foreign rule, was now the symbol of a liberated nation. Irish and English history are intertwined with hostility and repeated conquest. My granny tells me I don’t understand the true depths of this ingrained resentment, because of being born in the US.
“We’re here, I have arranged for one of our undercover units to frisk you lot, so no one suspects you of carrying. Just try to keep in mind all the bigwig mucky mucks on the premises. We’re all for the high-jump if you get their arses shot to Swiss, yeah?!”
Jimmy said in a rumbling tone. His eyes said he hated letting me play bait. We all knew this was the best plan, since this killer appeared to target young human women. I was the only one who almost met that criteria, since no one knew what I was or that I was a sup in my right. My whole closet-case personality was our trump card going into tonight. However, to catch this killer, I was blowing my cover—such as it is—to all kingdom come!